


paint yourself a picture (something perfectly obscure)

by sunsetveins



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lovers to Enemies to Friends, M/M, Multi, Ooooooh, Or Is It?, Secret Relationship, im going to go ahead and say that luke/michael isnt endgame, like it says scars and that is about it, like once okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetveins/pseuds/sunsetveins
Summary: Luke kissed Michael. That was how it began.





	1. Chapter 1

"Mommy!" Michael screamed, tiny feet thumping on the ground as he ran into the kitchen where his mother was taking some juice out of the refrigerator. He skidded to a halt in front of her, bouncing on his toes as he stared up at her.

"Yes, Mikey?" she asked with a smile, a fond expression melting onto her face as the four-year-old tugged on her sleeve to get her to bend down to his height.

Laughing a bit, she did as he wanted. He grinned brightly when he could look straight into her eyes.

"Mommy, Calum said that his daddy found his person yesterday. Said it was really really REALLY special. What did he mean? What did he mean by his person? Aren't we all people, Mommy?" Michael was looking at her with wide green eyes, pink lips done up in a pout. He looked more confused than he ever had, even when he'd come in screaming about how Xavier Goldsworthy had two moms and that he didn't know why people thought that was weird two weeks ago. She didn't know what to say.

"Well, Mikey, by that Calum meant that his daddy found someone that's going to be with him forever and ever. You know, like me and your daddy? Some people call that finding their person. What it really means is that you've found someone you're going to be with for the rest of your life, someone you're going to love, and they'll love you just the same. It's your soulmate, lovely. Your person is your soulmate." Michael's eyes get wider and wider as she answers him, confusion clearing from his face being replaced by a big smile bright enough to melt the sun. 

"How do you know you've found your soulmate?" 

She's never kept anything from Michael, but she's not sure if she should tell him about soulmates quite yet. At least not the process. He's four years old, much too young to be thinking about something that won't happen until he's at least 16. Maybe 17. 

"Tell you what, little man," she stood and ruffled his hair, "we'll talk about this tonight before bed time, yeah? As a bed time story?" 

She felt bad as she watched him nod excitedly, hands moving all over the place as he chattered happily about Calum and what they did outside today. She knew she was probably going to put this talk off for as long as possible. 

"Sounds like you had yourself a busy day, huh, love?"

 

-

 

She didn't mention it that night, and it was another two years before Michael even thought to ask about it again.

He was six, almost seven, when he came home from school early because his teacher had found her soulmate. He asked his father this time.

"Daddy?" 

They're in the car driving home, his mother driving and his father in the passenger seat. Michael was leaning against the back of his dad's seat, head turned towards his father and his fingers tapping on his arm.

"Yeah, Mike?" His father's almost identical eyes lock onto him, the green just a bit lighter than Michael's own. His lips aren't quite as full, dull in color and always chapped. They're turned up into a smile that has never been as bright and warm as Michael's.

"How do you know you've found your soulmate?" The curiosity in his voice had only grown since two years ago when Calum's dad had found Marie, his step-mom. 

His mom and dad share a glance, and in the end Michael's mom looks defeated.

"When you get a bit older, son, something really special is going to happen. You know how your Aunt Jamie has that brown flower on her shoulder?" 

Michael nodded excitedly, mouth open in a smile with his tongue caught between his teeth. 

His dad chuckled, "Well, when you get older you're going to get a picture somewhere on your skin, and it's going to be the color of your soulmates eyes. It's going to be of either something they really love or something that represents them to you." 

"But Aunt Jamie's flower has yellow behind it?" Michael said with his eyebrows furrowed. He tilted his head a bit as he stared at his father.

"There can be more than one color. The main color of the picture is your soulmate's eyes, but the rest of it doesn't really have to mean anything. Aunt Jamie's does, because your Uncle Thomas has blonde hair, yeah? But you know how Marie has a flag behind her picture?" 

Michael nodded. "Mhm. It's our flag, right?"

"Right," his dad laughed. "Yeah. It is. It doesn't necessarily mean anything, it's just a little bit extra. Maybe she planned to move, and the flag told her that her soulmate was here. If she'd have moved, she might not have met Calum's dad, yeah? It's like an extra push in the right direction."

Michael seems almost pacified, but there's one thing that just doesn't click for the six-year-old. "But how do you know it's them? How do you know the picture is for that specific person?" 

His dad goes to open his mouth, but then his mother is announcing very loudly that they're home.

He's shot an apologetic look that he doesn't really comprehend quite yet.

"I'll tell you more later, buddy."

It sounded like a promise, but Michael's dad knew it was empty. He wasn't going to be able to tell his son any more until he was older or asked again. Not if his mother had anything to say about it.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes three more years until he finally learns that last piece of the puzzle. It's not his mother or his father that tells him. No. It's this boy named Ashton that he meets when he's at the park with Calum and his step-mom. 

Ashton is loud and has really bouncy blonde curls. That's what draws Michael to him. That, and the boy who appears a little older than him seems to be upset by something. 

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, startling the boy who had been frowning up at the sky full of clouds. The blonde redirected his frown towards Michael.

"Why can't clouds stay together?" 

Ashton looks genuinely upset by the fact that clouds don't stay together, that they drift apart and go on to attach to different clouds just to drift from them too. Michael doesn't really see what the big deal is.

"I don't know. Maybe they don't like the cloud they're with?" Michael suggested, sitting down beside the boy on the grass. 

This doesn't seem to appease Ashton. "Clouds should stay together like people. My dad told me that one day he and my mom would be in the clouds together. How're they supposed to be together if the clouds don't stay together? What happens to soulmates in the clouds when they drift apart?" 

Ashton is near tears, looking so frustrated that Michael decides to just say the first thing that comes to his head. He's nine, now. He's qualified to help people like his mommy helps him.

"Maybe they drift apart because they need people to see that they're strong enough to be by themselves. Before Calum moved when I was seven, I didn't know what it was like to be alone. I was scared. I'm not now though and maybe that's why clouds move apart, to show people they don't have to be scared either." He was telling the truth, too. When Michael was seven, Calum went to America for a few months to visit his aunt. Michael had been terrified to be alone, but after a few days he realized being alone wasn't all that scary. Not really.

It's silent, and Michael began to think maybe he said the wrong thing. The thought is wiped away when Ashton looks at him with a big smile and hopeful hazel eyes.

"You think the same cloud joins together again, then?" Ashton asked. Michael nodded, simply because he didn't have anything else to say and he didn't really know what he believed. Did the same cloud join together again? Did they ever really separate to begin with?

"I like you," Ashton proclaimed. "I'm Ashton."

"Michael. I'm Michael."

Ashton grinned and threw an arm around Michael. "Do you wanna be friends, Mikey?"

A smile comes across Michael's face and he grinned right back at Ashton. "Absolutely."

They talk for a while about anything and everything. From Michael's fascination with bright colors to Ashton's obsession with making noise. They never move from their spot on the ground.

"Hey, Ash?" Michael asked suddenly, eyebrows drawing together.

"Yeah?"

"How do you know a certain person is your soulmate? Like, how do you know the picture is about that person?" 

Ashton tilted his head, a warm smile taking over his face as he stared at Michael. 

"When you meet them, your soulmate, their name will start appearing below your picture. It'll be in a different language, is what my dad told me. I don't know why. Apparently it'll eventually translate into English or whatever you speak.”

"That sounds so cool," Michael exclaimed, waving his arms around excitedly. Ashton laughed and knocked his shoulder into Michael's. Michael did it back until soon they were just swaying together and laughing. 

Eventually, when Calum ran over to find Michael, he and Ashton had fallen into each other and were cuddled up on the grass. Ashton pointing up at the clouds and Michael giggling into Ashton's grey shirt. 

"It's time to go home, Mikey!" Calum said loudly, kicking Michael's leg gently. 

"But," Michael protested, "Ashton."

The two sat up, and Michael turned and latched onto Ashton. The other did the same in return and when Marie wandered over, it seemed as if it pained her to make them let go.

"I don't want to leave Ash!" Michael shouted as Marie tried to separate them, hanging onto the other boy tighter. 

"I'm sorry, sweetie. We'll come back, alright? Tomorrow, I promise. You can see him tomorrow." 

It took about ten minutes, but eventually Michael was in the car with tears running down his face and Ashton was left standing at the end of the playground, watching as they left.

That was the first time Michael ever started to wish for his soulmate picture. He wondered if he'd have been forced to leave had Ashton been his soulmate.

 

-

 

Michael and Ashton stayed close for about two years following that day, until their friendship became late night calls and every other week messages.

When Michael was 12, he met Luke for the first time.

It wasn't like how he met Calum, predetermined and of no fault of his own.

It wasn't even like how he met Ashton, quick and innocent and unknowing.

How Michael met Luke was on the very same playground where he and Calum used to spend their weekends, being pushed to the ground by people two times his size.

"Hey!" Michael had shouted at them, glaring so hard it actually made his head ache. While they may have been two sizes bigger than Luke, they were also a year younger than Michael. So when he shouted, they had run as fast as they could.

Luke had frozen on the ground, looking up at Michael with big blue eyes and pouted pink lips. When Michael looks back on it, he thinks maybe that was the moment Luke crawled into his heart and started building himself a home.

"Are you okay?" he'd asked, offering Luke his hand so he could pull him up. It had caused the boy to flinch backwards.

Back then, Michael hadn't known why his heart had constricted so violently.

"Y-yeah," Luke had stuttered eventually, shaking and sweaty hand clasping Michael's. When Michael pulled him up, he stumbled into the older boy's chest. Then he had been all awkward laughter and flushed cheeks.

"I'm Michael."

"L-Luke."

He was 12 and Luke was 11. Both too young to understand the fluttering in their stomachs. Now though, at 14 and 13, they knew just a little better.

 

-

 

Luke kissed Michael. That was how it began.

It was an innocent peck that left Luke all red faced and a stuttering mess. It was the following kiss that Michael had initiated, the one so soft and sweet and long, that left Luke panting and smiling breathlessly. 

They were in year 8. Kings of middle school. Everything was nice and easy and they weren't going to hear anything of soulmates until at least the next year. Calum approved and Michael's mom smiled brighter than the sun when Luke was around.

They were soft kisses and hand holding. Sweet nothings and starry eyes. They were a dream and Michael loved Luke so much. 

Loved him more than pizza and hot chocolate, more than summer and Christmas and Blink 182. 

Michael loved Luke and Luke loved Michael and they were the dream team.

Sometimes Michael would tell people that Luke was his soulmate. That he didn't even need to see his picture to know it would shine a brilliant mess of blue moons and scratchy voices and unfamiliar characters that spell out Luke's name. They'd look at him with sad eyes and dull frowns and Michael would set his shoulders, staring up at them with Luke's clammy hand in his. He'd dare them to tell him otherwise, and Luke's lip would wobble and they'd crack. They would smile and say of course, and Michael would pretend a bit of their worried gazes didn't embed themselves into the pit of his stomach because no.

No. Luke was his soulmate. No question.


	3. Chapter 3

The summer before year 9, when Michael was 15 and Luke was 14, Michael and Luke stayed all night with Calum.

It was that night when it happened. It was that night when it started.

They were in Calum's kitchen making toast. Luke was standing by the toaster, while Calum was rifling through his cabinets looking for vegemite. Michael was sitting on top of Calum's kitchen counter with his heels hitting against the cabinets below, humming some Green Day song while his legs swung. 

Everything was fine. Calum was chattering away about beating Michael at fifa and Luke was trying to defend his boyfriend. Michael was rolling his eyes and humming louder because humming annoyed Calum to no end. He liked words, not vibrations. 

Everything was fine.

But then Michael's wrist had started itching. 

It itched. Then it burned. Then Michael was off the counter and in the floor, cradling his wrist and staring up at Calum with glassy green eyes. The toast popped and the vegemite fell out of Calum's hands, spoon clattering on the floor beside it. Everything wasn't fine.

"Michael!" Calum had yelled – and Michael can almost feel the burn in his chest now from the fact that Luke hadn't reacted first – dashing forward and falling down beside of Michael. 

"It hurts," Michael had whimpered. It had. The burning had progressed to aching and it hurt. 

Luke hadn't reacted. Not until Marie had come running in the room. That's when he somehow crowded up beside of Michael, pressing kiss after kiss to Michael's head and neck, whispering that everything was going to be okay and that the pain was going to go away, he promised.

He had lied. Michael hadn't known it then, and perhaps neither had Luke, but he had lied. It's been years, Michael now being 19, and he was still in pain. The pain had never gone away. 

"Help him," Calum had pleaded to his step-mom. She'd shaken her head, lips pressed together tightly and eyes sadder than Michael had ever seen them. Even when her mother had died and they'd all went to the funeral together, because at this point Michael was a part of Calum's family. They looked haunted. 

Michael knows why. He hadn't, but he did now. She knew. She had always known. Just like every single person who had looked at Michael with such a bittersweet kind of sadness when he told them about Luke, about how he was his soulmate, she knew. 

"It's his time."

That's what she had said. The words had caused Calum to still, looking like the world was crumbling. He had known. He had told Michael days afterwards that he had known. Michael wishes he had known.

"No," Calum had whispered. But it was, and in the next 10 seconds Michael's entire world fell apart. 

The skin of his wrist, exposed in an attempt to ease the pain, started coloring in. White's and green's and orange's filled in, creating some sort of canvas as bits of skin remained unmarked. Unmarked in the shape of stars. 

That's when the stars outlined in black, and the lightest color of blue filled in the spaces. Almost white in the center and getting darker as it filtered more towards the black of the outline. 

There were five of them, the stars, and as Michael stared at them he found that he was already attached to them. They were beautiful for a reason that Michael didn't know and within seconds of seeing them, he fell in love.

That is, until he put the pieces together.

It didn't hit him all at once, as he was struck by the absolute beauty of the picture painted across his wrist, but it started when he recognized the flag.

It was the Ireland flag. Michael didn't have any plans to go to Ireland, nor did he know any Irish people. (Luke wasn't Irish. Not at all.)

The next thing he noticed was the color of the stars. They were kind of like the sky, varying in shades of blue and white. Michael was almost certain he had never seen eyes of that color before. (Luke's were blue. They were startlingly blue. They didn't resemble the sky and most of the time they had no shades of white. Luke's eyes were just simply blue.)

The thing that sunk in though, the thing that broke him out of his clouded haze, was that he was looking straight at Luke and there were no letters scrawling onto his skin. There was nothing telling him that hey, he's staring at his soulmate. No feeling, no letters, no nothing. 

All there was, was nothing.

"Luke," he'd rasped out, voice cracking straight down the middle. There was nothing. Nothing but pain and hurt and emptiness. 

Luke had stared, eyes searing into the skin displaying the wrong colored stars with the wrong flag and no words. He'd stared and blinked and there had been nothing.

Nothing.

No words, Luke had gotten up and walked away. No looks or gestures or anything to tell Michael what was happening. Nothing. Nothing at all.

There had been nothing. Not even Luke. Just nothing.

(He fails to remember Calum's fingers digging into his shoulder and the hugs and promises to always be there. He forgets the phone calls from his mother that summer when he'd stayed with Calum, wasting away in his best friend's room. He ignores the extra bacon made by Marie and the endless gifts and talks of bands from Calum's dad. There had been absolutely nothing. There had to be. That's the only way Michael can bring himself to justify how he's felt for the last 4 years. There had to be nothing to justify the nothingness of now.)

"I'm here, Mikey," Calum's lips had brushed against his neck as he spoke, arms wrapped so tight around Michael's middle. "I love you. I'm here."

Nothingnothingnothing.

 

-

 

In year 9 it was Michael and Calum against the world. 

When Luke got his picture, or his tattoo as people had begun to say, it was still Michael and Calum against the world. Especially when Michael tripped Luke in the hallway and Luke hadn't even blinked in Michael's direction. 

They hadn't spoken since Luke walked out and left Michael with an empty chest and a burning hatred for the ink on his skin.

It remained Michael and Calum against the world until Luke started acknowledging Michael and the love they'd once harbored for each other sizzled out into hatred. 

Michael started taking his pain out on Luke while Luke started throwing his resentment for Michael's tattoo into every insult he threw at the older boy. They fought and fought and fought until soon, instead of it being Michael and Calum against the world, it became Michael against Luke while Calum watched helplessly on the sidelines as his best friend tore himself apart.

It stays like that until the end of year nine when somehow, someway, Calum finds himself in a band with Michael and Luke.

The two are civil and soon, it's like old times except it's so achingly not.

Michael makes fun of Luke more than he ever had, and sometimes his words are spat with such malice that they even have Calum wincing. It'll never ever be the same and when Michael does things like that, Calum suspects it's because he has to remind himself of that.

Everything goes smoothly all through year 10. That's when everything has to go to shit.

The band gets a bit more serious and they find themselves gearing up for an upcoming gig. It becomes clear then that the three of them isn't enough. They need a drummer.

Michael remembers the playground, the boy who just wanted the answers of the universe, and how he loved to make noise. 

Michael remembers Ashton and that Ashton is a drummer.

And so he calls him. He agrees to play. Everything is wonderful.

 

-

 

Ashton shows up in the ugliest purple shirt Michael has ever seen with big dorky glasses resting on his nose. He grins and hugs Michael as tight as he possibly can. Paying no mind to the two people watching, Michael buries his face in Ashton's neck and attempts to disappear within him. 

He doesn't realize he's crying until Ashton lifts his head and makes Michael look at him.

"Hey, Mikey," Ashton says quietly with a smile on his lips, dimples just denting his cheeks. Michael attempts a smile back, and when the shakiness of it causes it to crumble Ashton pulls him into an even tighter hug than before.

"It's okay," he reassures, and Michael can't help but choke up because Ashton is so wonderful and Michael loves him so much. 

"I've missed you," he sniffles, nuzzling into the crook of Ashton's neck. Ashton smells like fresh cut grass and chocolate cupcakes. It's a smell Michael has missed so terribly that he didn't even realize it until now.

Ashton smiles into Michael's hair, tears bubbling in his own eyes when he realizes that the last time he properly saw Michael it had been blonde opposed to the inky blackness of it now. 

"I've missed you more, Mikey," he whispers. Michael pinches his side.

"Not possible, Irwin."

"Entirely possible, Clifford."

Michael pulls back in his hold until they can look each other in the face, but Ashton keeps his arms on his waist the same as Michael does.

"Don't make me sing to you, Fletcher. I missed you more and that's that." Michael's face is twisted up and his eyebrows are drawn together. Ashton can't help but think that Michael resembles a disgruntled kitten. He tells him so as he bops him on the nose.

"What if I want you to sing to me, Gordon? I don't know if you're aware, my dearest disgruntled kitten, but I happen to love your voice." Ashton taps Michael on the nose as his face turns a pretty pink color. Michael takes a hand away from Ashton to swat at him, nose crinkling up in a way that makes Ashton want to cuddle Michael so close that they become one person.

"Shut up," the raven headed boy whines, burying his face in Ashton's chest, "you do not."

"I do to," Ashton teases, voice sing-songy. "You have a wonderful voice, Michael," he says more seriously.

"No I don't," Michael says into Ashton's shirt, "and I hate your shirt."

Seeing an opportunity, Ashton takes the way out Michael has most likely knowingly provided. "Hey now," he raises his hands in the air with a joking smile on his lips, "what did my shirt ever do to you?"

Michael lifts his head, making Ashton's heart sink to his stomach at the sight of his reddened eyes, and says shakily yet still somehow just as sarcastic as Michael always is, "It exists. That's more than enough of a proper offense."

Ashton sees what Michael is doing and is suddenly more than aware of the two people watching them. Michael wants to be alone with Ashton and the only excuse he has is this.

"Want me to change it, then? Would you prefer me in one of yours?"

Michael's red lips, chapped from the dig of his teeth, lift sideways. "Yeah, actually."

He says it so offhandedly with no trace of teasing in his tone that Ashton can't help but blush. He nods his head once, glancing off to his right where Michael's friends stood for a split second before tilting his head at Michael with a suggesting smile. "Show me to your room?"

"Of course," Michael says as he takes Ashton's hand to drag him away. 

Calum doesn't say a word as the two disappear, but when he turns to Luke he knows that this is bad. Oh, it's so very bad.


	4. Chapter 4

They return thirty minutes later. Ashton is in a new long sleeved black shirt with All Time Low written across the chest. Michael is beaming next to him with Ashton's arm wrapped around his waist. All Calum can think about is how he just wants Michael to be happy.

Luke doesn't even look up, too ashamed of himself to bring his eyes to lock with either of the two. 

It doesn't seem to phase Michael or Ashton, and the day goes on as planned. 

Ashton is a brilliant drummer, just like Michael said he would be. He gets inducted into the band and the hug he and Michael share is something Calum has to look away from. It doesn't matter, neither of them notice anything but each other.

He doesn't know what happened in Michael's room, but he has his guesses and from the looks of it every single one of them are right.

As he did last time, though, he ignores it and tries to convince himself that maybe he's wrong. Maybe, this time, Michael got it right.

Ashton didn't have a visible tattoo, so maybe he should stop assuming the worst.

That's what he tells himself two days later when he and Luke walk in on the two of them kissing, hanging onto each other like it's the last thing they can do to keep themselves together. The only thing that'll save them both.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. 

"I love you, Ash," comes the mumble from Michael's lips, resting as still as ever against Ashton's.

"I love you, Mikey," is the reply. So still and full of everything Calum knows shouldn't be there. 

He should've said something. That becomes a certainty when he sees Luke turn and walk out of the room as fast as he can without making a noise. If he was ever a good friend to Michael, he should've said something.

He doesn't say anything. 

 

-

 

For two years, Calum didn't say anything. 

He watched as Michael and Ashton got serious, serious to the point of moving in together, and he didn't say anything.

He watched as Michael got happier and happier, and he didn't say anything.

He watched as Ashton proposed to Michael, right after getting the news that they were going on tour with One Direction, and he didn't say anything.

Not even when Michael said yes. He never said anything. 

It's been two years. Two years full of nothing but happiness for Michael, and maybe that's what made Calum keep his mouth shut. Maybe Michael being happy meant more to him than anything else and that's why he never said anything even though he knew, one day, all of this would go up in flames.

He should've said something, he knows that. 

He knows it now, today, especially because it's been a month since the proposal and now they're going on tour with One Direction and – 

It didn't take a genius to string the dots together. Calum hates himself.

"I'm so excited!" Ashton is yelling when Calum walks into their dressing room. They're here at the arena waiting for One Direction to show up. They're supposed to spend the day together and get to know each other before the actual tour starts in two days.

Michael is curled up into Ashton's side, his legs resting in Ashton's lap while the rest of him is curled around Ashton's body. Ashton has his arm wrapped tight around him while he uses his free arm to talk animatedly about how excited he is and how he and Mike barely slept the night before because of it. They're like clockwork and it almost breaks Calum's heart, except that happened a long time ago.

Luke is off in the corner of the room, tuning his guitar and humming under his breath. His foot is tapping some beat as it bounces off the crate he's sat on. It's not a surprise, but it makes Calum a bit upset nonetheless.

He sits himself on the table opposite Ashton and Michael anyway so Ashton can finish telling him about his thoughts on the entire thing. 

This leads to Ashton going on for about fifteen minutes about how he and Michael used to sit up at night on Skype talking about how music was their dream, long before the band came along, and that back then Ashton didn't think he'd ever make it. He was just the loud kid with bouncy curls and a weird voice that had too many scars and a worthless cause. (He'd long since shared his story about his past and why he preferred to wear long sleeves as opposed to a t-shirt, and bracelets. It still makes them all upset when Ashton just casually talks about it like if the past had been different, worse, it wouldn't have changed anything. It would've changed everything, absolutely everything, and they all wish Ashton could understand that.)

"Well, now you're the loud kid with bouncy curls and a weird voice that has too many fans and a working cause," Michael states with a smile, leaning up to kiss Ashton's cheek. The action causes a bright smile to come across Ashton's face and for his dimples to dent his coloring cheeks. It's sweet even though it almost makes Calum want to scream.

"You think you have too many fans now," a voice from behind Calum speaks up, "just wait until this tour is over." 

And there's Louis Tomlinson. 

Louis Tomlinson standing there in all his glory, smiling brighter than the sun, with Harry Styles' arm draped over his shoulder and the other three boys standing behind them. 

That makes things a lot more interesting.


End file.
